What if it was Me?
by hookling
Summary: Bones has been dealing with Booth's new relationship with Hannah. Please review, it helps me write faster!
1. Chapter 1

Temperance Brennan silently blew the fringe from her eyes as she rolled with a thump to the middle of her bed. This was getting ridiculous. How long ago had she settled down to sleep? She was a good sleeper. Two months ago she had drifted off peacefully on the floor of the Indonesian jungle, the sounds of various species of nocturnal creatures lulling her into deep and undisturbed dreams. Her last night in the Maluku Islands had been calm and mellow, and she had retired early on in the evening to allow herself time to absorb her surroundings, storing them safely in a tranquil place in her brain.

She rolled over again to her side, facing the opposite end of the bed, which was neat and empty. How long had it been since she'd had a man here? Certainly over a month, perhaps even more. There had been no time for sex or anything like it in Indonesia and she had returned to the States in need of some serious satisfying of biological urges. The first night Temperance had been home she'd met her partner at the reflecting pool as they'd agreed almost seven months before. Her entire flight back had been spent in a daze, her thoughts clouded with nothing but Booth. Would he keep his promise? Would he be there to meet her? Would they hug? Kiss? She had relived the intimate grip of his hand at the airport so often during her time away that she had managed to form a magnitude of emotion into the simple gesture and all that it had meant between them, _for them_.

She had met him, and they had embraced, and Temperance had decided there and then that she'd changed, that she'd wanted him, wanted _this _and there was no way she wasn't going to get what she wanted. Then Booth had driven a metaphorical kick to her stomach with the announcement of his new girlfriend, and Temperance had shattered.

The second night she was back, Temperance had met Hannah during dinner with Booth. The third night, she had gone clubbing with Angela and invited the first man to drunkenly push himself up against her back to her bed. She had needed to forget.

Temperance's mind drifted back to that second night, and the dinner she had shared with Booth, Hannah and the majority of the team from the lab. A 'welcome home' meal, Angela had declared, before rejecting all of Temperence's pleas of not being able to attend. 'Come _on_, Bren! You have to come!' she'd insisted. 'Besides, we just _have _to get the dirt on Agent Hottie's new squeeze; I hear she's quite the Barbie Doll.'

Angela had been right. Hannah was a Barbie Doll, a beautiful, perfect woman whom she would have picked out as a woman for Booth had she not been so utterly convinced the woman had been _her_. But she wasn't perfect, and Hannah was. _I missed my chance_, she had thought sadly over dinner. _It's over._ Hannah had spoken animatedly to the team all evening, warming to everyone with the kind of ease that Temperance had grown volcanically jealous of. She had realised late into the evening that she was not only jealous of Hannah for being Booth's woman, but also that she was jealous of Hannah for being _her_.

Hannah had probably been a cheerleader. An all-American girl with the type of blonde hair that Temperance had secretly coveted as a mousy brown fifteen year old with a favouritism for a loose ponytail. She'd probably had a steady stream of boyfriends since she was sixteen; one of those girls who made boys fall passionately in love with her just by the curve of her eyelashes or the gloss on her lips.

The memory of being an impassioned twenty two year old ghosted through Temperance's thoughts as she remembered the first time she'd given herself completely and utterly to a man. The night she had given her virginity to Michael had been undeniably good; he had shown her what it was to be worshipped in a way she had thought only happened to other girls, girls who weren't her. He had adored her body all night, coaxing pleasure from her and leaving her asking for nothing. Equally in return she had indulgently explored his own body, yet in the back of her mind she had felt the tingle of something foreign, something that didn't belong to their moment. She was being _cared for. _Somebody _cared for her. _After that she had been confused as to the source of her pleasure. Had she loved Michael as a lover or simply because he was the first person to care about her?

Hannah had probably lost her virginity on prom night or spring dance or some other occasion Temperance hadn't been asked to take part in. It would have been with some fresh-faced youth, _a jock_, she suddenly thought, that's what those types of boys were known as. She imagined Booth as a quick-witted senior, a fuchsia corsage pinned to the lapel of his tuxedo jacket as he escorted a candy-coloured Hannah to their summer dance. She smiled at the thought of Booth wearing a pink flower; saw the frown of his distaste in her mind.

Carefully she sat up in bed and with a soft exhale realised sleep wasn't going to come tonight. Picking up the pile of paperwork she had placed on the floor before turning her lights off three hours ago, she padded through to her living room, switched on an embroidered lamp she had received as a gift from Angela two Christmases ago and settled down to read.

The knock came loudly and rudely, jolting her awake from the uncomfortable pillow of her forearms.

'Bones? Bones!' The familiar murmur of her partner seeped through heavy wood of her front door, and she yawned and rubbed her eyes as she realised she was probably beyond late for the morning's schedule. 'Bones! Are you even in there?'

She heard him rustling through his pockets for his telephone, and peeked through the peephole to see him making a strangled grunt as he spilled coffee over his hand in the process. She sighed. She could just let him go, hide behind her door. He probably thought she'd already gone to the lab anyway. Since Hannah (and these days everything was _since Hannah_), Temperance had been driving herself to work, getting her own coffee, being alone with her thoughts in the mornings. Why was he here?

This is what she did, this is who she is. She is organised and conscientious; she gets the work done and done well, and basks in the success of it. She certainly isn't a woman who falls asleep with her head on a table because she can't bear to feel the cool expanse of emptiness every time she rolls over in her own bed. She isn't the kind of woman who hides behind doors.

Or maybe she just doesn't want to be.

Lifting the latch off the door she pulls it open to find Booth, phone pressed against ear. Absently she hears the buzz of her own phone from in the kitchen, and raises her eyebrows apologetically.

'Sorry Booth, I wasn't feeling too well last night so I'm a little sleep deprived.'

Immediately his eyes change and he is surveying her, assessing her for distress, until the little flash is gone and his face returns to neutral. She remembers he doesn't do that anymore, not _since Hannah_. She registers in the back of her mind she is still wearing the vest and shorts she threw on last night before bed when sleep had seemed an actual possibility. She folds her arms across her chest awkwardly when she follows his gaze to her naked shoulders, and her cheeks flush rose pink.

'Oh er, okay Bones,' Booth won't make eye contact. 'Well I just came to pick you up, y'know, thought you might need a lift...to work?' He offers. He is stumbling over his words like a toddler, and it makes Temperance uneasy.

'Thanks Booth, but obviously I'm going to be late into the lab today,' she says.' I haven't even showered yet and I have a feeling it's going to take at least three cups of coffee for me to make it out the front door.'

'It's okay, I can wait.' Why is he here? They haven't driven into work together since before the year they spent apart. 'I can't do much without you anyway, Bones.'

Temperance bites her lip and feels like a silly teenage girl at the way his comment makes her heart tingle. _He means the work; he can't get the work done without you_. She silently turns around and widens the door for him to enter, and he closes it with a click behind him. For a moment they stand looking at each other, before his brown eyes flicker away and an expression of excitement lights up his face.

'Hey Bones, you got a TV!' His eyes are dancing as he takes in the large television in the corner and he flops down on the sofa, propping his feet on the coffee table. She remembers dimly that he hasn't been to her apartment since their return, and she smiles at the familiarity of it all. She's missed this, him moving casually amongst her furniture and possessions.

'Yes, I bought it a couple of weeks ago. The people I was working with in the Indonesia sent me over some material they'd like me to analyse on DVD, so I thought it pertinent to buy a television that I can watch them on. I was assured by the salesperson it is an advanced model more than suitable for my needs.'

'Sure, I'd love to get my hands on one of these babies...' Booth lets out a low whistle and turns the machine on with its remote. They both are still for a moment watching the news station it's tuned into, before Temperance asks 'How's Hannah? I understand she has a lot of work on at the moment, last time I saw her she was quite stressed.'

'Hannah's fine,' says Booth in a clipped voice, indicating that she was _not _fine. 'She's fine.' He is staring intently at the television and Temperance weighs up whether the _'Man steals three hundred dollars worth of toilet paper from workplace' _news story currently being played is really that interesting or that that particular area of conversation is closed. She chooses the latter option, and wonders whether the conversation is closed only to her.

'Good, I'm glad to hear of it,' she says, remembering again that she is very naked under the pyjamas she's wearing. 'I'm going to shower Booth, help yourself to anything you'd like.'

'Okay Bones,' he mutters, still staring stonily at the television.


	2. Chapter 2

Seeley Booth wasn't the type of man who struggled in social situations, he didn't stumble or trip over his words and he knew his face was attractive enough to be used to his advantage. He was never lost for words and he certainly wasn't the type of man who turned up haphazardly at his partner's place, opening and closing his mouth like some kind of brainless goldfish. He was the type of man who _always_ _knew what to say_, and he didn't doubt what he had been told by the many people he's interacted with both professionally and intimately. This, however, didn't explain why he had turned up at Bones' apartment out of the blue, seemingly his only reason being to crow his excitement at her new television. _Pathetic_, he berated himself.

He sighed and rubbed the coarseness of his cheek, dimly registering that he hadn't shaved this morning. Great, now not only was he acting like a blundering stalker, he also probably looked like most people's version of one too.

Booth heard the soft flutter of shower spray coming from the room next door and resolutely stared at the television again. He didn't know why. As soon as Bones had clicked the bathroom door shut he'd turned off the television and instead busied himself with the thoughts currently bouncing around his brain. _Alone with your thoughts_, a voice muttered inside his head, which was then countered with the realisation that it was not his thoughts that he was alone with, but Temperance Brennan.

Why was he here? Booth recalled the widening of Bones' eyes when she had opened her door to find him standing impatiently on the other side. She had looked at him in confusion and tried to cover herself up when she caught him staring at her nude shoulders; Booth's mouth had suddenly become dry as he had tried to think of a time where he had seen Bones in anything but one of the crisp blouses he was used to. Flashes of his dream-Bren in a lacy black slip had collided with the reality of her standing in front of him; her arms crossed to her chest and the thin black straps of her vest contrasting sharply to her skin. He had torn his eyes away and entered her apartment without a word, thanking his God when her new television had provided him with a blessed distraction. She had immediately deduced that something was not quite right with him – how could she not, she was his _partner_ – and sensing his reproachfulness on the subject, had excused herself to shower. Which was now why Seeley Booth was sat in his partner's living room slowly turning into an irritatingly awkward teenage boy.

Booth knew why he was there. He knew why he had watched Hannah leave three nights ago and he knew why he hadn't called her since. He knew why she had taken all of her things with him and he also knew why he wasn't going to see her again.

_I don't want to have any regrets, _Bones had exclaimed on that sodden night two weeks ago as he had driven her home. She had been acting more and more erratically throughout the week, cumulating in his discovery of her half drowned and breathless in the middle of a dark street in a bad part of town. He had only half-listened to her justification of Lauren Eames' actions, his thoughts focused upon cocooning her in the dry shelter of his car. Her large eyes had sparkled as she had retold her conversation with Dr Eames' partner and words like _regret _and _ran out of time_ had punctured the silence of the car until finally Booth had realised she was no longer talking about the victim but herself. Booth's eyes had swivelled from the wet road directly into the electric stare of his partner. _I don't want to have any regrets Booth_, she had said, staring deeply into his eyes and igniting something in him that he thought had burned out almost six months ago.

She wanted him. She wanted _them_, he had thought, euphoria licking up from his stomach. Booth had felt his heart splinter when he'd seen the hot tears pool down the sides of Bones' cheeks, her eyes crinkled up and her lips pressed together as if battling not to let something out. But still she had made no noise, even when he had seen her thin fingers grip the door handle of his car so tight they had blanched white. _Oh baby_, he had thought, and the hard lump in his throat had threatened to force its way out and cry for her. He had seen her eyes turn to a watery indigo as she kept her eyes firmly fixed on him in wait for an answer, and at that moment he had opened his mouth to accept her into his arms, his life, his everything and yet the wrong words had come out. _I'm with Hannah now. She's not a consolation prize_.

Hannah. The image of his happy blonde girlfriend flooded his mind along with the realisation that he was no longer his own to give away. He couldn't give himself to Bones because he had long ago boxed up the hurricane of feelings he felt for her and moved on. _Compartmentalising_, that's what his partner had called it, and Booth knew he had never heard a more excruciating word. Looking into Bones' eyes in the car that night, her reaction to his words had driven a blade to his chest and he found himself physically unable to look at her. One more look into her beautifully broken eyes and he would crack. How could she do this to him now?

He had _compartmentalised _Bones like she had wanted, and thrown himself into his relationship with Hannah. Just partners, that's all she wanted and Booth had known he had to extricate her from his life if their partnership were to survive. Hannah had offered him love and he loved her in return, drinking up her beauty and passion for life. That was until he had returned from Afghanistan and his appreciation of her beauty had been drowned out by the fierce pull of his partner, his Bones. From then on he had continued to love Hannah with a steady sense of guilt, all the time wishing her hair a little browner, her eyes a little bigger, her personality a little more...Bones. He loved Hannah, but he wasn't _in love _with her. He had swallowed the agony rising from his chest and stared morosely at the road ahead, unable to look at his sobbing partner.

Booth had driven Bones to her apartment and abruptly left to his own home, fighting the raw urge to pull her to his chest and never let go.

'Hey baby,' Hannah had exclaimed as he had walked through his front door, feeling as though he had left half of himself sat in the driver's seat of his car. 'I've missed you,' she had breathed in his ear, before he had pushed his face into her neck and finally succumbed to the dry sobs that had been fighting their way out of his body since his partner had brokenly breathed out _I'll be fine, alone_. At first, Hannah had been startled at the sight of his lost control and had immediately questioned the safety of his son or grandfather.

_God, what must I look like? _Booth had thought, before lifting his damp face from her embrace and telling her everything. Hannah had listened quietly to his confession before gently kissing his cheek and disappearing into their bedroom. She had returned half an hour later to the sound of a beeping cab waiting outside, two neatly packed holdalls toted over her arms. He hadn't heard from her in the three days that had passed.

And so he had told Bones that Hannah was _fine_. She probably was. Booth could not deny she was a beautiful woman, both physically and characteristically. She was a gorgeous person and he had known she had loved him, but she had also loved her life and her work and her travelling. Booth had known since the beginning that he was _one_ of her _priorities_ rather than her _priority_, and thoughts which had caused him to worry two weeks ago questioning her commitment to him now provided him a soft comfort. Hannah was the type to travel around the world leaving a string of foreign hearts in tatters. Booth had known from the quirk of her lips and the silky '_take care of yourself Seeley'_ as she had walked out of his door that in a few weeks she would have lost herself in the arms of another man and forgotten about him.

Booth was wrenched from his thoughts by the soft click of an unlocking door, and Bones slid out of her bedroom, pink and delicate. Mascara framed her large eyes and she now wore a crisp pink blouse and black suit pants, evidently ready for the day ahead.

'Ready, Booth?' she said, offering him a smile that lit up her face and probably half of DC with it. Booth bit his lip and realised he was ready for one thing only and it did not involve hovering in her lab all day whilst he tried to _compartmentalise _the way his fingers throbbed to touch her, hold her to him, to physically tell her the things she wouldn't believe if she heard them from his mouth. Seeley Booth was a man who knew how to use what he had to get what he wanted and he reminded himself that before opening his mouth and taking the second biggest gamble of his life.

'Bones, we need to talk.'


	3. Chapter 3

'Bones, we need to talk,' Booth breathed out.

Temperance stiffened and raised her eyes to him questioningly. She bit her lip and her stare widened when she saw the bronze flash of his eyes.

'_You know what about_.'

Slowly, she dropped down onto the sofa where he was sitting and stared at him deeply. Seconds passed before she realised she was opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, the words becoming trapped behind her lips as wildly as they were flitting around her brain. What could she say? There was too much, _so much_ and all of it had been carefully glossed over since that night her heart had splintered in his car. They didn't talk about these things now; they were things that had happened _before_; at a different time, to different people.

Booth stared back at her with intensity, and they both vocalised at the same moment.

'I'm fine, Booth, we'll - '

'Hannah's gone –'

_Oh._ Temperance's breath hitched in her throat as it dawned on her the reason for this _talk_. Booth had split from his girlfriend and needed to ventilate his feelings. This was about him, not them. She felt a sticky heat rise up from her stomach in embarrassment at her earlier assumption that he wanted to discuss the fractured state of their relationship, and condemned herself mentally for being so selfish. When had she become so self-absorbed? He was seeking sympathy from her, not the metaphorical post-mortem on their battered partnership.

'Booth, I'm so sorry,' she murmured, swallowing the lump that refused to leave her throat. _Not about you, this is not about you. _'Gone where? Statistically, co-habiting couples argue an average of 312 times per annum, a fact which suggests that you and Hannah will overcome this spat and restore your relationship back to its best.' She reeled off the facts mechanically, feeling as though the statistic somehow shielded her from the sting of tears prickling her eyes.

Confusion ghosted over his face, his chocolate eyes narrowing and then widening in realisation. 'No, Bones, Hannah's _gone_. We're done, I ended it. I couldn't lie anymore – '

'Lie?' Temperance whispered. Booth didn't lie, he was strong and brave. Lies were for people who were weak-hearted and afraid. People who lied were not worthy of happiness or love or any of the things that Booth stood for. What had he lied about? Her throat throbbed again as she thought of her own lies. _I don't have your open-heart. I'll be fine, alone. _

'Lie, Bones. It's all been a lie. I couldn't do it anymore, not after – ' he took a sharp breath in. 'After that night. In my car, the rain...when you –'

Fat, hot tears spilled over her eyes and he inhaled a splintered breath and reached out a hand to her, only to pull it back again before it made contact. If he touched her he would break, and he needed to be strong to make her believe. He pulled back and opened his mouth to speak, however his words were suspended when he caught the colour of her eyes, now cerulean from the tears running silently down her cheeks. He had done this to her and the hummingbird thrum in his chest commanded him to make it right.

Temperance couldn't speak with the flurry of emotion that was coursing through her. She didn't allow herself to think about that night, with the rain...all that rain. When she had gotten home she hadn't been able to distinguish between the wetness from the sky and the wetness of her tears, and the memory of it now sends a sharp stab from somewhere in her chest. Could he be doing this now? After everything that had happened? Her body tingled with desperation to throw herself into his broad, strong chest; the part of his anatomy she so completely identified as _Booth's. _She wanted to sculpt herself to him and never let go. But she couldn't, he didn't deserve the hurt and so she settled for folding her arms to her own chest in attempt to stop her heart from splintering out.

He stared at her, eyes full of heat. 'I need there to be an _us_, Bones.' He said, boring into her with such intensity that she could have sworn he was looking at everything she was, everything she had been and would ever be. 'I need you, all of you. I need us.' He reached out to her again, this time brushing his long fingers against her wrist, curling round it until she jerked away from him. She needed the distance. Without the space between them, she knew the time would come when he would only shatter from her brokenness. He was still the one that needed protecting.

'It's not enough for you, _I'm_ not enough.' She choked out, tearing her eyes away from his face, knowing that if she looked at him a second longer she'd probably never recover.

'_No_!' Booth's voice cracked, leaning forward to grasp her shoulders and lean his forehead against hers. Hot tears dripped onto her face but she couldn't tell if the wetness was his or her own. He tilted her chin up to look at him and she gasped inwardly at the pain clouding his handsome face. His eyes dropped to her mouth, wet from her tears and slowly began the descent to her quivering lips. The two seconds it took for his mouth to close over hers felt like an echo of the six torturous years of their partnership; every bicker, every piercing stare that went on a second too long, every chance for something incredible that they so recklessly threw away. Her initial mewl of refusal almost immediately gave way to a moan as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, ignoring the way her hands bit into his shoulders. His own palms slid down her arms to grasp her hands, covering them, protecting them in his as he drank from her mouth. Why hadn't they done this before? He groaned into her mouth as she pushed her own tongue against his, soft breaths escaping from her as his hands moved to tilt her head back. Their kiss became a whirl of purpose; an apology, a proposal, a declaration and raw need all surging to the surface as their mouths moved over each other.

'Is that enough for you, Bones?' he breathed out raggedly, releasing her now swollen mouth. 'I'll never get enough.'


	4. Chapter 4

'Is that enough for you, Bones?' he breathed out raggedly, releasing her now swollen mouth. 'I'll never get enough.'

Still leaning his forehead against hers, Booth searched her face, looking for some emotion that meant he hadn't just ruined this for the second time in a year. To his surprise, her eyelids were tightly closed, her long lashes still flecked with tears. Booth closed his own eyes and let out a soft exhale, his breath ghosting over her face sweetly. Temperance slowly inhaled the air around her, opening her eyes in time to see the bob of his throat as he swallowed painfully. '_Temperance,_' he murmured, the infrequent use of her first name sending a bolt of arousal through her stomach. '_Please. _I want you.'

Being helpless to stand the plea in his words, Temperance lowered her mouth to his so they were breathing the same air. 'You can have anything you want, Booth.' She murmured, her bottom lip grazing his mouth with every syllable. He felt his body's response to her words and groaned as he claimed her mouth again, slipping his tongue into her mouth like it was his new favourite place in the world. They kissed lingeringly, mouths working over one another gently so as not to push whatever it was hovering between them over the edge. _I won't be the one to do this, _Temperance thought, her brain reasoning with her body to slow things down; to not allow control to be lost. _He's just broken up with Hannah; he just wants to feel something._ _No, you know that's not true._ She cursed inwardly as her treacherous hands travelled lazily up his body before resting at the place where hair joined the nape of his neck, all the time her mouth attacking his own with increasing fervour. Where her lips had moved softly over only a few minutes before, they now invaded and devoured, the delicious groaning sounds coming from his throat driving her further.

Something had changed. Temperance was now a huntress, flashes of emotion she'd rather not admit to feeling now the driving force behind her actions.

_Possession. Revenge. Need._

Her body urged her to claim what was hers. This handsome, delicious, strong man was hers, always had been and she damn well wasn't going to let anything get in the way of them. Not again. Her fingers smoothed their way down his back again before pulling the t-shirt from his body, a gasp escaping her throat as her prize was revealed. She had seen Booth shirtless before – a number of times in fact, yet something was different now. He was hers, and she couldn't help the feeling of possession that jolted through her as her fingertips smoothed over his naked chest.

Booth felt as though his body had been suspended in some kind of thick, syrupy substance. His arms clung dumbly onto the woman in front of him as she seemingly assaulted his body, his mind unable to process the events taking place. Their mouths now moved hungrily over each other, kisses turning biting as though they couldn't get close enough to each other. 'Sorry for the – I'm not usually a biting kisser,' she breathed against hot mouth, and Booth felt a twinge in his groin that had nothing to do with the awkwardness of his current position on the sofa. _The sofa. _It suddenly dawned on him that unless he did something about it really soon, their first time was going to be a clumsy fumble in the middle of her living room.

'Bones,' he groaned as her gorgeous hands teased the soft hairs of his lower stomach. 'Bones, d'you think we should take this to the, uh...' He realised he'd never once been inside her bedroom and the thought of this drove him wild with want. Unclaimed Territory.

'Are you asking me to allow you into my bedroom, Booth?' she asked, the smile accompanying her question making his fingers itch to touch her mouth. For one second he considered the possibility that she might say no, before rubbishing the idea with the consideration that God and _fate _for that matter wouldn't dare screw him over again.

'You're so lovely,' he whispered, and as Temperance rose to her feet and took his hand, she knew that _lovely _was definitely her new favourite word. As he followed her lead and stood to his full height, Temperance felt her breathing increase as she took in his masculinity. Rationally, she was well aware that he was much taller than her and had been since she had first met him. But that still didn't explain the feelings the simple height of his body coaxed out of her. 'I find that I enjoy the fact I have to stand on my tip-toes to kiss you, Booth,' she breathed against him, her hands moving from his stomach to much lower, exciting new places. Booth caught her hands as she traced his belt buckle, grasping the fact that her clothes remained very securely on her body. _Oh no, Bones, I don't think so._ He rubbed his hands down hers arms as he leant in once again to kiss her, his fingers slipping under the hem of her blouse and stroking the skin there. She let out a gasp as he made contact with her body, before reaching up and beginning to impatiently unbutton the shirt herself. Booth smiled as he realised her intentions and met her halfway, briskly slipping the pearly buttons out from the bottom of the blouse as she moved down from the top. Their hands met midway and he brushed against them before slithering inside her top. Temperance's eyes closed as she felt his long fingers make contact with her, his hands gently stroking their way up and down her torso as if they were whispering things to her bare skin. She pushed her chest into his hands with ardency, his fingers tracing the lace of her bra before withdrawing altogether. Her eyes snapped open and she nearly cried out at the loss of contact before registering the look on his face. His chocolate eyes had darkened to nearly black and his hot breath came out in pants across her face.

'Bedroom,' he breathed out, his mouth dropping to her neck and tasting the skin there. Booth knew Bones would call it _impossible _or _irrational_ but the taste he found there was driving him mad and his hands involuntarily returned to the inside of her blouse before discarding it altogether. He danced her backwards across the room and explored her now bare torso, his hands rising to brush over her lace-covered breasts. They fit perfectly in his hands, a fact which again caused words like _fate _and _destiny _to swirl around his mind, and the throaty moan that escaped her throat as his thumbs grazed her nipple sent his groin impulsively jolting into her pelvis. He paused as they reached the threshold of her bedroom, resting her now squirming body against the door frame and aligning his own with it.

'Bones, if we do this, it's –' he paused, thinking of a way to explain what he meant that wouldn't make her bolt for a dig site in, God, he didn't even know where.

'I know, Booth.' She said, her voice sounding womanly and husky and delicious and like he really had to get her inside her bedroom right now. 'I know there are lots of reasons that have hindered the successful beginning of a relationship between us before but I'm not willing to let anything else stop this, or us, again. I'm 'all for', I think the correct term is, and even if you change your mind and choose to leave my apartment I regret to inform you that you're – you're...you're not allowed to.' She said unsteadily, and Booth felt somewhere in his chest throb as she shyly peered out at him from beneath her fringe.

'All in, Bones. The saying is _all in_,' he said, smiling down at her and feeling relief as arousal danced across her features. Their eyes locked onto each other as an agreement passed between them, without words yet clearer and more poignant than any other exchange of feelings that they had previously shared.

'Take me to bed, Booth.' She murmured, and her breath was caught by his mouth as he steered them inside the room.


End file.
